---Well, here it is- the final chapter. I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing in. Thanks to everyone who read this little story of mine and also to everyone who wrote a review. Also, thank you to Nathan, my beta. You're awesome.

Spoiler Warning: This chapter is pretty much a missing scene from episode "In My Time of Dying." So obvious spoilers for that as well as "Devil's Trap." So far the story has been preseries and I was tempted to keep it that way, but looking back on IMTOD, I realized that John's words and actions just fit this story so well.

Disclaimer: Obviously, nothing Supernatural belongs to me.

Chapter 6- The Least He Could Do

It turned out John had pushed Sam away. Those four years had been hard on him and Dean. Without Sam there, there were too many hunts they weren't able to take part in. Too many monsters let go. Too many words left unspoken.

Maybe that was why John left. He was getting close to finding the demon now. The next few months would be dangerous. Too dangerous to get Dean involved, especially without the help of Sam. He'd already lost one son, he couldn't loose another. Maybe this way, he could save his sons from an end they didn't deserve. By cutting himself off from them both, they wouldn't have to suffer from a destiny they never asked for. But look how that plan turned out. As John watched the hospital machines pumping life into his oldest son, he realized that he'd done everything wrong. Everything.

Now all John had to do was wait. Wait for the evil that would take his life. Waiting for the evil that would give back Dean's.

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John woke up in the hospital, hurting and confused about what had happened. But as his vision cleared a little, so did his head. The events of the night came crashing back to him, just like the huge semi had done to the Impala.

John remembered the crash. He remembered Sam saying something to him. Something about the colt? About starting over? And then nothing. Darkness. He didn't even have time to think about his sons. Sam and Dean. Where were they? Were they alright? Were they even alive? John started to heart-stopping panic, when a doctor came into his room, assuring him that he would be fine, that his boys were alive.

"Where are they? Can I see them?" John urged the doctor.

The man sighed. "I'll send in your youngest son. Sam, isn't it? John nodded. "But I'm afraid Dean is in critical condition. He's slipped into a coma."

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"So…what else did the doctor say about Dean?"

"Nothin'. Look, since the doctors won't do anything…then we'll have to, that's all. I don't know, I'll find some hoodoo priest and lay some mojo on him," Sam replied.

"Yeah." Sam looked just about as convinced about that as John did.

"But, Sam…I don't know if you're gonna find anyone." He wouldn't offer any false hope.

John noticed his son's expression become sad and then angry. "Why not? I found that faith healer before."

"Well, that was one in a million."

"So what? What, do we just sit here with our thumbs up our ass?"

"No, I said we'd look. All right? I'll check under every stone. Where's the Colt?"

"Your son is dying, and you're worried about the Colt?"

Sam was angry now and John didn't want to fight. He was tired of fighting. Sam didn't realize how important this gun was. It was the most important thing right now. "We are hunting this demon, and maybe it's hunting us, too. That gun may be our only card."

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John sat in Dean's room. He watched the various machines' watched as Dean lie there appearing lifeless. He remembered some of what had happened when he was possessed. He remembered the things that he said to of his boys as the demon pinned them against the wall. He remembered the terrible feeling of causing his sons pain and the pain he felt as he watched the demon use him to torture his own son.

And then John was thinking to himself. His thoughts came to him as thought somebody else were speaking the words to him. As if somebody were in the room, speaking to him.

Come on, John. You gotta help him. He's gotta get better. You haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried. Aren't you gonna do anything? Aren't you even gonna say anything? He's done everything you have ever asked him. Everything. He's given everything he's ever had. And now you're just gonna sit there, and you're gonna watch him die? What the hell kind of father are you?

And that's when John was sure about what he was about to do. He was sure it was the only way to bring Dean back. He knew what was really important.

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And then they were fighting again. "You think I wouldn't find out?" Sam spoke up.

"What are you talkin' about?" John replied. He watched his son move from the window, a fierceness and anger on his face that John rarely saw.

"That stuff from Bobby. You don't use it to ward off a demon, you use it to summon one. You're planning on bringing the demon here, aren't you, and having some stupid macho showdown!"

"I have a plan, Sam." To get your brother back.

"That's exactly my point! Dean is dying and you have a plan! You know what? You care more about killing this demon than you do saving your own son!"

"Do not tell me how I feel. I am doing this for Dean."

"How? How is revenge gonna help him? You're not thinkin' about anybody but yourself! It's the same selfish obsession!"

John knew Sam had every right to be angry. He knew how much he cared about his brother. He would do anything for Dean, like Dean would do for him, and now it looked like John was giving up on him. It looked as though he were putting the hunt before his own son. But Sam was wrong. How could he put the hunt before his son's life? But John didn't think about the numerous times that he had put the hunt before them. Before his family. But John was too blinded by anger to realize that. To realized that he'd been wrong so many times.

"It's funny, you know what, I thought this was your obsession, too! This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. You begged me to be part of this hunt! Now, if you killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would have happened!" John listened to his words and cursed himself. No, he didn't mean that. He didn't mean what he was saying.

"It was possessing you, Dad, I would've killed you, too!"

"Yeah, and your brother would be awake right now!"

"Go to hell."

"I should have never taken you along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake!" It was a mistake to involve you in this life.

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Dean was slipping away. John knew it. It had to be done. This deal had to be made. And as he spoke with the demon, face to face, the same Demon that killed his wife, his beautiful Mary, the same demon who ruined his life, his family's life, he had no regret. The cult wasn't important. Neither was his own soul. All that was important was making sure that Dean was alive. Making sure that Sammy still had his big brother. Making sure that his boys were okay.

And just like that, the deal was made. The colt and his soul, for Dean's life.

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John walked into Dean's hospital room to find both of his sons talking. Dean was alive. Thank God. It'd worked.

"How you feelin', dude?" John asked his son, speaking to him for the first time since the night at the cabin.

"Fine, I guess. I'm alive."

"That's what matters." That was all that mattered.

"Where were you last night?" It was Sam who spoke this time, with the same anger in his voice that had been present earlier.

"I had some things to take care of."

"Well, that's specific."

"Come on, Sam," Dean said, trying to stop the fight that was about to erupt.

"Did you go after the demon?" Sam asked John.

"No."

"You know, why don't I believe you right now?"

John thought for a moment. This was his last chance. His last chance to make peace. The last chance to say those little words that he knew would mean so much to Sam. He knew what had to be done; knew that he had to apologize to his son; knew that he had to make things right. This was his last chance.

"Can we not fight? You know, half the time we're fightin', I don't know what we're fightin' about. We're just buttin' heads. Sammy, I...I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could. I just don't wanna fight anymore, okay?" And just like that, the fighting stopped and John knew that he would never argue with his son again.

"Dad, are you all right?" Sam sounded worried.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm just tired. Hey, Sam, would you mind, uh…would you mind gettin' me a cup of caffeine?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sure." John watched as his son exited the room, wondering if this would be the last time he would ever see him. But if it was, at least he'd apologized. At least he'd made an attempt at peace. And that was all that could be asked.

"What is it?" Dean spoke up.

"You know, when you were a kid…I'd come home from a hunt. And after what I'd seen, I'd be…I'd be wrecked. And you'd…come up to me, and you'd put your hand on my shoulder, and you'd look me in the eye, and you'd… you'd say, "It's okay, Dad." Dean…I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"You shouldn't have had to say that to me. I should've been sayin' that to you. You know, I put…I put too much on your shoulders, I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, and you took care of me. You did that. And you didn't complain, not once. I just want you to know…that I am so proud of you."

"Is this really you talkin'?" John looked at his son and was reminded of the little boy who'd showed him how to use a toaster.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's really me."

"Why are you sayin' this stuff?"

"I want you to watch out for Sammy, okay?"

"Yeah, Dad, you know I will. You're scarin' me."

"Don't be scared, Dean."

And John knew that theses small word- these words of comfort, telling Dean for the first time in so many years that he was proud of him, meant as much to Dean as his apology to Sam had.

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John walked back to his room, where he knew he would meet his fate; knew his life would come to an end. As he did, he thought about so much. He thought about his sons, about Mary, about the hunt. He thought about all of the mistakes that he'd made. He thought about all of the times that he pushed parenting aside to be a hunter. All of the little things that he'd missed in his sons' lives. All of the little things he hadn't managed to do for them.

And then he thought about what he was doing now. He was giving his life for his son. Giving his soul. This was what was important. Making sure his boys were okay. To anyone else, it would be a big deal. But John knew that it was just another little thing that he was asked to do as a parent. It was like showing up to a baseball game, or remembering to call to check up on his boys. He was asked to put his son in front of the hunt, and now he'd finally managed to do that.

As he waited there in his room, John knew that he'd finally learned how to do the little things in life. Because John knew that giving his life for his son was the least he could do.

The End

---Thanks again for reading. Reviews are always awesome. I'm currently working on a new fic and hope to have it posted this weak.